Original text Act V, Scene I Enter Clowne and Fabian.
Fab.
Now as thou lou'st me, let me see his Letter.
Clo.
Good M. Fabian, grant me another request.
Fab.
Any thing.
Clo.
Do not desire to see this Letter.
Fab.
This is to giue a dogge, and in recompence desire
my dogge againe.
Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and Lords.
Duke.
Belong you to the Lady Oliuia, friends?
Clo.
I sir, we are some of her trappings.
Duke.
I know thee well: how doest thou my good
Fellow?
Clo.
Truely sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for
my friends.
Du.
Iust the contrary: the better for thy friends.
Clo.
No sir, the worse.
Du.
How can that be?
Clo.
Marry sir, they praise me, and make an asse of me,
now my foes tell me plainly, I am an Asse: so that by my
foes sir, I profit in the knowledge of my selfe, and by my
friends I am abused: so that conclusions to be as
kisses, if your foure negatiues make your two affirmatiues,
why then the worse for my friends, and the better
for my foes.
Du.
Why this is excellent.
Clo.
By my troth sir, no: though it please you to be
one of my friends.
Du.
Thou shalt not be the worse for me, there's gold.
Clo.
But that it would be double dealing sir, I would
you could make it another.
Du.
O you giue me ill counsell.
Clo.
Put your grace in your pocket sir, for this once,
and let your flesh and blood obey it.
Du.
Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double dealer:
there's another.
Clo.
Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play, and the olde
saying is, the third payes for all: the triplex sir, is a good
tripping measure, or the belles of S. Bennet sir, may
put you in minde, one, two, three.
Du.
You can foole no more money out of mee at this
throw: if you will let your Lady know I am here to speak
with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my
bounty further.
Clo.
Marry sir, lullaby to your bountie till I come
agen. I go sir, but I would not haue you to thinke, that
my desire of hauing is the sinne of couetousnesse: but as
you say sir, let your bounty take a nappe, I will awake it
anon.
Exit
Enter Anthonio and Officers.
Vio.
Here comes the man sir, that did rescue mee.
Du.
That face of his I do remember well,
yet when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
As blacke as Vulcan, in the smoake of warre:
A bawbling Vessell was he Captaine of,
For shallow draught and bulke vnprizable,
With which such scathfull grapple did he make,
With the most noble bottome of our Fleete,
That very enuy, and the tongue of losse
Cride fame and honor on him: What's the matter?
1. Offi.
Orsino, this is that Anthonio
That tooke the Phoenix, and her fraught from Candy,
And this is he that did the Tiger boord,
When your yong Nephew Titus lost his legge;
Heere in the streets, desperate of shame and state,
In priuate brabble did we apprehend him.
Vio.
He did me kindnesse sir, drew on my side,
But in conclusion put strange speech vpon me,
I know not what 'twas, but distraction.
Du.
Notable Pyrate, thou salt-water Theefe,
What foolish boldnesse brought thee to their mercies,
Whom thou in termes so bloudie, and so deere
Hast made thine enemies?
Ant.
Orsino: Noble sir,
Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you giue mee:
Anthonio neuer yet was Theefe, or Pyrate,
Though I confesse, on base and ground enough
Orsino's enemie. A witchcraft drew me hither:
That most ingratefull boy there by your side,
From the rude seas enrag'd and foamy mouth
Did I redeeme: a wracke past hope he was:
His life I gaue him, and did thereto adde
My loue without retention, or restraint,
All his in dedication. For his sake,
Did I expose my selfe (pure for his loue)
Into the danger of this aduerse Towne,
Drew to defend him, when he was beset:
Where being apprehended, his false cunning
(Not meaning to partake with me in danger)
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twentie yeeres remoued thing
While one would winke: denide me mine owne purse,
Which I had recommended to his vse,
Not halfe an houre before.
Vio.
How can this be?
Du.
When came he to this Towne?
Ant.
To day my Lord: and for three months before,
No intrim, not a minutes vacancie,
Both day and night did we keepe companie.
Enter Oliuia and attendants.
Du.
Heere comes the Countesse, now heauen walkes on earth:
But for thee fellow, fellow thy words are madnesse,
Three monthes this youth hath tended vpon mee,
But more of that anon. Take him aside.
Ol.
What would my Lord, but that he may not haue,
Wherein Oliuia may seeme seruiceable?
Cesario, you do not keepe promise with me.
Vio.
Madam:
Du.
Gracious Oliuia.
Ol.
What do you say Cesario? Good my Lord.
Vio.
My Lord would speake, my dutie hushes me.
Ol.
If it be ought to the old tune my Lord,
It is as fat and fulsome to mine eare
As howling after Musicke.
Du.
Still so cruell?
Ol.
Still so constant Lord.
Du.
What to peruersenesse? you vnciuill Ladie
To whose ingrate, and vnauspicious Altars
My soule the faithfull'st offrings haue breath'd out
That ere deuotion tender'd. What shall I do?
Ol.
Euen what it please my Lord, that shal becom him
Du.
Why should I not, (had I the heart to do it)
Like to th'Egyptian theefe, at point of death
Kill what I loue: (a sauage iealousie,
That sometime sauours nobly) but heare me this:
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
And that I partly know the instrument
That screwes me from my true place in your fauour:
Liue you the Marble-brested Tirant still.
But this your Minion, whom I know you loue,
And whom, by heauen I sweare, I tender deerely,
Him will I teare out of that cruell eye,
Where he sits crowned in his masters spight.
Come boy with me, my thoughts are ripe in mischiefe:
Ile sacrifice the Lambe that I do loue,
To spight a Rauens heart within a Doue.
Vio.
And I most iocund, apt, and willinglie,
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would dye.
Ol.
Where goes Cesario?
Vio.
After him I loue,
More then I loue these eyes, more then my life,
More by all mores, then ere I shall loue wife.
If I do feigne, you witnesses aboue
Punish my life, for tainting of my loue.
Ol.
Aye me detested, how am I beguil'd?
Vio.
Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?
Ol.
Hast thou forgot thy selfe? Is it so long?
Call forth the holy Father.
Du.
Come, away.
Ol.
Whether my Lord? Cesario, Husband, stay.
Du.
Husband?
Ol.
I Husband. Can he that deny?
Du.
Her husband, sirrah?
Vio.
No my Lord, not I.
Ol.
Alas, it is the basenesse of thy feare,
That makes thee strangle thy propriety:
Feare not Cesario, take thy fortunes vp,
Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art
As great as that thou fear'st.
Enter Priest.
O welcome Father:
Father, I charge thee by thy reuerence
Heere to vnfold, though lately we intended
To keepe in darkenesse, what occasion now
Reueales before 'tis ripe: what thou dost know
Hath newly past, betweene this youth, and me.
Priest.
A Contract of eternall bond of loue,
Confirm'd by mutuall ioynder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lippes,
Strengthned by enterchangement of your rings,
And all the Ceremonie of this compact
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my graue
I haue trauail'd but two houres.
Du.
O thou dissembling Cub: what wilt thou be
When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?
Or will not else thy craft so quickely grow,
That thine owne trip shall be thine ouerthrow:
Farewell, and take her, but direct thy feete,
Where thou, and I (henceforth) may neuer meet.
Vio.
My Lord, I do protest.
Ol.
O do not sweare,
Hold little faith, though thou hast too much feare.
Enter Sir Andrew.
And.
For the loue of God a Surgeon, send one
presently to sir Toby.
Ol.
What's the matter?
And.
H'as broke my head a-crosse, and has giuen
Sir Toby a bloody Coxcombe too: for the loue of God
your helpe, I had rather then forty pound I were at home.
Ol.
Who has done this sir Andrew?
And.
The Counts Gentleman, one Cesario: we
tooke him for a Coward, but hee's the verie diuell,
incardinate.
Du.
My Gentleman Cesario?
And.
Odd's lifelings heere he is: you broke my
head for nothing, and that that I did, I was set on to do't
by sir Toby.
Vio.
Why do you speake to me, I neuer hurt you:
you drew your sword vpon me without cause,
But I bespake you faire, and hurt you not.
Enter Toby and Clowne.
And.
If a bloody coxcombe be a hurt, you haue
hurt me: I thinke you set nothing by a bloody Coxecombe.
Heere comes sir Toby halting, you shall heare more: but
if he had not beene in drinke, hee would haue tickel'd you
other gates then he did.
Du.
How now Gentleman? how ist with you?
To.
That's all one, has hurt me, and there's th'
end on't: Sot, didst see Dicke Surgeon, sot?
Clo.
O he's drunke sir Toby an houre agone: his eyes
were set at eight i'th morning.
To.
Then he's a Rogue, and a passy measures panyn:
I hate a drunken rogue.
Ol.
Away with him? Who hath made this hauocke with
them?
And.
Ile helpe you sir Toby, because we'll be
drest to-gether.
To.
Will you helpe an Asse-head, and a coxcombe,
& a knaue: a thin fac'd knaue, a gull?
Ol.
Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd too.
Enter Sebastian.
Seb.
I am sorry Madam I haue hurt your kinsman:
But had it beene the brother of my blood,
I must haue done no lesse with wit and safety.
You throw a strange regard vpon me, and by that
I do perceiue it hath offended you:
Pardon me (sweet one) euen for the vowes
We made each other, but so late ago.
Du.
One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons,
A naturall Perspectiue, that is, and is not.
Seb.
Anthonio: O my deere Anthonio,
How haue the houres rack'd, and tortur'd me,
Since I haue lost thee?
Ant.
Sebastian are you?
Seb.
Fear'st thou that Anthonio?
Ant.
How haue you made diuision of your selfe,
An apple cleft in two, is not more twin
Then these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
Ol.
Most wonderfull.
Seb.
Do I stand there? I neuer had a brother:
Nor can there be that Deity in my nature
Of heere, and euery where. I had a sister,
Whom the blinde waues and surges haue deuour'd:
Of charity, what kinne are you to me?
What Countreyman? What name? What Parentage?
Vio.
Of Messaline: Sebastian was my Father,
Such a Sebastian was my brother too:
So went he suited to his watery tombe:
If spirits can assume both forme and suite,
You come to fright vs.
Seb.
A spirit I am indeed,
But am in that dimension grossely clad,
Which from the wombe I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the rest goes euen,
I should my teares let fall vpon your cheeke,
And say, thrice welcome drowned Viola.
Vio.
My father had a moale vpon his brow.
Seb.
And so had mine.
Vio.
And dide that day when Viola from her birth
Had numbred thirteene yeares.
Seb.
O that record is liuely in my soule,
He finished indeed his mortall acte
That day that made my sister thirteene yeares.
Vio.
If nothing lets to make vs happie both,
But this my masculine vsurp'd attyre:
Do not embrace me, till each circumstance,
Of place, time, fortune, do co-here and iumpe
That I am Viola, which to confirme,
Ile bring you to a Captaine in this Towne,
Where lye my maiden weeds: by whose gentle helpe,
I was preseru'd to serue this Noble Count:
All the occurrence of my fortune since
Hath beene betweene this Lady, and this Lord.
Seb.
So comes it Lady, you haue beene mistooke:
But Nature to her bias drew in that.
You would haue bin contracted to a Maid,
Nor are you therein (by my life) deceiu'd,
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.
Du.
Be not amaz'd, right noble is his blood:
If this be so, as yet the glasse seemes true,
I shall haue share in this most happy wracke,
Boy, thou hast saide to me a thousand times,
Thou neuer should'st loue woman like to me.
Vio.
And all those sayings, will I ouer sweare,
And all those swearings keepe as true in soule,
As doth that Orbed Continent, the fire,
That seuers day from night.
Du.
Giue me thy hand,
And let me see thee in thy womans weedes.
Vio.
The Captaine that did bring me first on shore
Hath my Maides garments: he vpon some Action
Is now in durance, at Maluolio's suite,
A Gentleman, and follower of my Ladies.
Ol.
He shall inlarge him: fetch Maluolio hither,
And yet alas, now I remember me,
They say poore Gentleman, he's much distract.
Enter Clowne with a Letter, and Fabian.
A most extracting frensie of mine owne
From my remembrance, clearly banisht his.
How does he sirrah?
Cl.
Truely Madam, he holds Belzebub at the staues
end as well as a man in his case may do: has heere writ a
letter to you, I should haue giuen't you to day morning.
But as a madmans Epistles are no Gospels, so it skilles not
much when they are deliuer'd.
Ol.
Open't, and read it.
Clo.
Looke then to be well edified, when the Foole
deliuers the Madman.
By the Lord Madam.
Ol.
How now, art thou mad?
Clo.
No Madam, I do but reade madnesse: and your
Ladyship will haue it as it ought to bee, you must allow
Vox.
Ol.
Prethee reade i'thy right wits.
Clo.
So I do Madona: but to reade his right wits, is to
reade thus: therefore, perpend my Princesse, and giue
eare.
Ol.
Read
it you, sirrah.
Fab.
Reads.
By the Lord Madam, you wrong me, and the world shall
know it: Though you haue put mee into darkenesse, and giuen
your drunken Cosine rule ouer me, yet haue I the benefit of
my senses as well as your Ladieship. I haue your owne letter,
that induced mee to the semblance I put on; with the which
I doubt not, but to do my selfe much right, or you much
shame: thinke of me as you please. I leaue my duty a little
vnthought of, and speake out of my iniury. The madly vs'd
Maluolio.
Ol.
Did he write this?
Clo.
I Madame.
Du.
This sauours not much of distraction.
Ol.
See him deliuer'd Fabian, bring him hither:
My Lord, so please you, these things further thought on,
To thinke me as well a sister, as a wife,
One day shall crowne th'alliance on't, so please you,
Heere at my house, and at my proper cost.
Du.
Madam, I am most apt t'embrace your offer:
Your Master quits you: and for your seruice done him,
So much against the mettle of your sex,
So farre beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you call'd me Master, for so long:
Heere is my hand, you shall from this time bee
Your Masters Mistris.
Ol.
A sister, you are she.
Enter Maluolio.
Du.
Is this the Madman?
Ol.
I my Lord, this same:
How now Maluolio?
Mal.
Madam, you haue done me wrong,
Notorious wrong.
Ol.
Haue I Maluolio? No.
Mal.
Lady you haue, pray you peruse that Letter.
You must not now denie it is your hand,
Write from it if you can, in hand, or phrase,
Or say, tis not your seale, not your inuention:
You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,
And tell me in the modestie of honor,
Why you haue giuen me such cleare lights of fauour,
Bad me come smiling, and crosse-garter'd to you,
To put on yellow stockings, and to frowne
Vpon sir Toby, and the lighter people:
And acting this in an obedient hope,
Why haue you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
Kept in a darke house, visited by the Priest,
And made the most notorious gecke and gull,
That ere inuention plaid on? Tell me why?
Ol.
Alas Maluolio, this is not my writing,
Though I confesse much like the Charracter:
But out of question, tis Marias hand.
And now I do bethinke me, it was shee
First told me thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling,
And in such formes, which heere were presuppos'd
Vpon thee in the Letter: prethee be content,
This practice hath most shrewdly past vpon thee:
But when we know the grounds, and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the Plaintiffe and the Iudge
Of thine owne cause.
Fab.
Good Madam heare me speake,
And let no quarrell, nor no braule to come,
Taint the condition of this present houre,
Which I haue wondred at. In hope it shall not,
Most freely I confesse my selfe, and Toby
Set this deuice against Maluolio heere,
Vpon some stubborne and vncourteous parts
We had conceiu'd against him. Maria writ
The Letter, at sir Tobyes great importance,
In recompence whereof, he hath married her:
How with a sportfull malice it was follow'd,
May rather plucke on laughter then reuenge,
If that the iniuries be iustly weigh'd,
That haue on both sides past.
Ol.
Alas poore Foole, how haue they baffel'd thee?
Clo.
Why some are borne great, some atchieue greatnesse,
and some haue greatnesse throwne vpon them. I
was one sir, in this Enterlude, one sir Topas sir, but
that's all one: By the Lotd Foole, I am not mad: but do
you remember, Madam, why laugh you at such a
barren rascall, and you smile not he's gag'd: and thus
the whirlegigge of time, brings in his reuenges.
Mal.
Ile be reueng'd on the whole packe of you?
Ol.
He hath bene most notoriously abus'd.
Du.
Pursue him, and entreate him to a peace:
He hath not told vs of the Captaine yet,
When that is knowne, and golden time conuents
A solemne Combination shall be made
Of our deere soules. Meane time sweet sister,
We will not part from hence. Cesario come
(For so you shall be while you are a man:)
But when in other habites you are seene,
Orsino's Mistris, and his fancies Queene.
Exeunt
Clowne
sings.
When that I was and a little tine boy,
with hey, ho, the winde and the raine:
A foolish thing was but a toy,
for the raine it raineth euery day.
But when I came to mans estate,
with hey ho, &c.
Gainst Knaues and Theeues men shut their gate,
for the raine, &c.
But when I came alas to wiue,
with hey ho, &c.
By swaggering could I neuer thriue,
for the raine, &c.
But when I came vnto my beds,
with hey ho, &c.
With tospottes still had drunken beades,
for the raine, &c.
A great while ago the world begon,
hey ho, &c.
But that's all one, our Play is done,
and wee'l striue to please you euery day.
| Modern text Enter Feste and Fabian
FABIAN
Now, as thou lov'st me, let me see his letter.
FESTE
Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.
FABIAN
Anything!
FESTE
Do not desire to see this letter.
FABIAN
This is to give a dog, and in recompense desire
my dog again.
Enter Orsino, Viola, Curio, and lords
ORSINO
Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?
FESTE
Ay, sir, we are some of her trappings.
ORSINO
I know thee well. How dost thou, my good
fellow?
FESTE
Truly, sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for
my friends.
ORSINO
Just the contrary: the better for thy friends.
FESTE
No, sir: the worse.
ORSINO
How can that be?
FESTE
Marry, sir, they praise me – and make an ass of me.
Now my foes tell me plainly, I am an ass; so that by my
foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself, and by my
friends I am abused. So that, conclusions to be as
kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives,
why then, the worse for my friends and the better
for my foes.
ORSINO
Why, this is excellent.
FESTE
By my troth, sir, no – though it please you to be
one of my friends.
ORSINO
Thou shalt not be the worse for me: there's gold.
FESTE
But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would
you could make it another.
ORSINO
O, you give me ill counsel!
FESTE
Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once,
and let your flesh and blood obey it.
ORSINO
Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double-dealer;
there's another.
FESTE
Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old
saying is, the third pays for all; the triplex, sir, is a good
tripping measure; or the bells of Saint Bennet, sir, may
put you in mind – one, two, three!
ORSINO
You can fool no more money out of me at this
throw. If you will let your lady know I am here to speak
with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my
bounty further.
FESTE
Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come
again. I go, sir, but I would not have you to think that
my desire of having is the sin of covetousness. But as
you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap – I will awake it
anon.
Exit
Enter Antonio and Officers
VIOLA
Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.
ORSINO
That face of his I do remember well.
Yet when I saw it last, it was besmeared
As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war.
A baubling vessel was he captain of,
For shallow draught and bulk, unprizable;
With which, such scatheful grapple did he make
With the most noble bottom of our fleet,
That very envy and the tongue of loss
Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter?
FIRST OFFICER
Orsino, this is that Antonio
That took the Phoenix, and her fraught from Candy;
And this is he that did the Tiger board
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg.
Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,
In private brabble did we apprehend him.
VIOLA
He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side,
But in conclusion put strange speech upon me.
I know not what 'twas, but distraction.
ORSINO
Notable pirate, thou salt-water thief,
What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies
Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear,
Hast made thine enemies?
ANTONIO
Orsino, noble sir,
Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me.
Antonio never yet was thief or pirate;
Though, I confess, on base and ground enough,
Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither.
That most ingrateful boy there by your side
From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth
Did I redeem; a wrack past hope he was.
His life I gave him, and did thereto add
My love without retention or restraint,
All his in dedication. For his sake
Did I expose myself – pure for his love –
Into the danger of this adverse town;
Drew to defend him when he was beset;
Where, being apprehended, his false cunning –
Not meaning to partake with me in danger –
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty years' removed thing
While one would wink; denied me mine own purse
Which I had recommended to his use
Not half an hour before.
VIOLA
How can this be?
ORSINO
When came he to this town?
ANTONIO
Today, my lord; and for three months before
No interim, not a minute's vacancy,
Both day and night, did we keep company.
Enter Olivia and attendants
ORSINO
Here comes the Countess; now heaven walks on earth!
But for thee, fellow – fellow, thy words are madness.
Three months this youth hath tended upon me.
But more of that anon. Take him aside.
OLIVIA
What would my lord – but that he may not have –
Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
VIOLA
Madam?
ORSINO
Gracious Olivia –
OLIVIA
What do you say, Cesario? (To Orsino) Good, my lord.
VIOLA
My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.
OLIVIA
If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear
As howling after music.
ORSINO
Still so cruel?
OLIVIA
Still so constant, lord.
ORSINO
What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady,
To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breathed out
That e'er devotion tendered! What shall I do?
OLIVIA
Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.
ORSINO
Why should I not – had I the heart to do it –
Like to th' Egyptian thief at point of death
Kill what I love – a savage jealousy
That sometime savours nobly? But hear me this:
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
And that I partly know the instrument
That screws me from my true place in your favour,
Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still.
But this your minion, whom I know you love,
And whom, by heaven, I swear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye
Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.
Come, boy, with me, my thoughts are ripe in mischief.
I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love
To spite a raven's heart within a dove.
VIOLA
And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.
OLIVIA
Where goes Cesario?
VIOLA
After him I love
More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
More by all mores than e'er I shall love wife.
If I do feign, you witnesses above,
Punish my life, for tainting of my love!
OLIVIA
Ay me, detested! How am I beguiled!
VIOLA
Who does beguile you? Who does do you wrong?
OLIVIA
Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?
Call forth the holy father!
Exit an attendant
ORSINO
Come, away!
OLIVIA
Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay!
ORSINO
Husband?
OLIVIA
Ay, husband. Can he that deny?
ORSINO
Her husband, sirrah?
VIOLA
No, my lord, not I.
OLIVIA
Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear
That makes thee strangle thy propriety.
Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up.
Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art
As great as that thou fear'st.
Enter Priest
O, welcome, Father.
Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,
Here to unfold – though lately we intended
To keep in darkness what occasion now
Reveals before 'tis ripe – what thou dost know
Hath newly passed between this youth and me.
PRIEST
A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirmed by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lips,
Strengthened by interchangement of your rings,
And all the ceremony of this compact
Sealed in my function, by my testimony;
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave
I have travelled but two hours.
ORSINO
O thou dissembling cub! What wilt thou be
When time hath sowed a grizzle on thy case?
Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow
That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?
Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet
Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.
VIOLA
My lord, I do protest –
OLIVIA
O, do not swear!
Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.
Enter Sir Andrew
SIR ANDREW
For the love of God, a surgeon! Send one
presently to Sir Toby.
OLIVIA
What's the matter?
SIR ANDREW
He's broke my head across, and he's given
Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too. For the love of God,
your help! I had rather than forty pound I were at home.
OLIVIA
Who has done this, Sir Andrew?
SIR ANDREW
The Count's gentleman, one Cesario. We
took him for a coward, but he's the very devil
incardinate.
ORSINO
My gentleman, Cesario?
SIR ANDREW
'Od's lifelings, here he is! You broke my
head for nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't
by Sir Toby.
VIOLA
Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you.
You drew your sword upon me without cause,
But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not.
Enter Sir Toby and Feste
SIR ANDREW
If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have
hurt me. I think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.
Here comes Sir Toby halting, you shall hear more; but
if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you
othergates than he did.
ORSINO
How now, gentleman? How is't with you?
SIR TOBY
That's all one; he's hurt me, and there's the
end on't. (To Feste) Sot, didst see Dick Surgeon, sot?
FESTE
O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone. His eyes
were set at eight i'the morning.
SIR TOBY
Then he's a rogue and a passy-measures pavin.
I hate a drunken rogue.
OLIVIA
Away with him! Who hath made this havoc with
them?
SIR ANDREW
I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be
dressed together.
SIR TOBY
Will you help? An asshead, and a coxcomb,
and a knave – a thin-faced knave, a gull!
OLIVIA
Get him to bed, and let his hurt be looked to.
Exeunt Sir Toby and Sir Andrew,
helped by Feste and Fabian
Enter Sebastian
SEBASTIAN
I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman.
But had it been the brother of my blood
I must have done no less, with wit and safety.
You throw a strange regard upon me; and by that
I do perceive it hath offended you.
Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows
We made each other but so late ago.
ORSINO
One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons!
A natural perspective, that is and is not.
SEBASTIAN
Antonio! O, my dear Antonio!
How have the hours racked and tortured me
Since I have lost thee!
ANTONIO
Sebastian, are you?
SEBASTIAN
Fear'st thou that, Antonio?
ANTONIO
How have you made division of yourself?
An apple cleft in two is not more twin
Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
OLIVIA
Most wonderful!
SEBASTIAN
Do I stand there? I never had a brother;
Nor can there be that deity in my nature
Of here and everywhere. I had a sister
Whom the blind waves and surges have devoured.
Of charity, what kin are you to me?
What countryman? What name? What parentage?
VIOLA
Of Messaline. Sebastian was my father.
Such a Sebastian was my brother too.
So went he suited to his watery tomb.
If spirits can assume both form and suit
You come to fright us.
SEBASTIAN
A spirit I am indeed,
But am in that dimension grossly clad
Which from the womb I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
And say, ‘ Thrice welcome, drowned Viola.’
VIOLA
My father had a mole upon his brow.
SEBASTIAN
And so had mine.
VIOLA
And died that day when Viola from her birth
Had numbered thirteen years.
SEBASTIAN
O, that record is lively in my soul.
He finished indeed his mortal act
That day that made my sister thirteen years.
VIOLA
If nothing lets to make us happy both
But this my masculine usurped attire,
Do not embrace me, till each circumstance
Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump
That I am Viola; which to confirm,
I'll bring you to a captain in this town
Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help
I was preserved to serve this noble Count.
All the occurrence of my fortune since
Hath been between this lady and this lord.
SEBASTIAN
(to Olivia)
So comes it, lady, you have been mistook.
But nature to her bias drew in that.
You would have been contracted to a maid.
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived:
You are betrothed both to a maid and man.
ORSINO
Be not amazed; right noble is his blood.
If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
I shall have share in this most happy wrack.
(To Viola) Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times
Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.
VIOLA
And all those sayings will I overswear
And those swearings keep as true in soul
As doth that orbed continent the fire
That severs day from night.
ORSINO
Give me thy hand,
And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.
VIOLA
The Captain that did bring me first on shore
Hath my maid's garments. He, upon some action,
Is now in durance at Malvolio's suit,
A gentleman and follower of my lady's.
OLIVIA
He shall enlarge him; fetch Malvolio hither.
And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.
Enter Feste with a letter, and Fabian
A most extracting frenzy of mine own
From my remembrance clearly banished his.
(To Feste) How does he, sirrah?
FESTE
Truly, madam, he holds Beelzebub at the stave's
end as well as a man in his case may do. He's here writ a
letter to you. I should have given it you today morning.
But as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not
much when they are delivered.
OLIVIA
Open it, and read it.
FESTE
Look, then, to be well edified when the fool
delivers the madman.
He reads frantically
By the Lord, madam –
OLIVIA
How now, art thou mad?
FESTE
No, madam; I do but read madness. An your
ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow
vox.
OLIVIA
Prithee, read i' thy right wits.
FESTE
So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits, is to
read thus. Therefore, perpend, my princess, and give
ear.
OLIVIA
(snatching the letter and giving it to Fabian) Read
it you, sirrah.
FABIAN
(reads)
By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall
know it. Though you have put me into darkness and given
your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of
my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter
that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which
I doubt not but to do myself much right, or you much
shame. Think of me as you please, I leave my duty a little
unthought-of, and speak out of my injury. The madly-used
Malvolio.
OLIVIA
Did he write this?
FESTE
Ay, madam.
ORSINO
This savours not much of distraction.
OLIVIA
See him delivered, Fabian, bring him hither.
Exit Fabian
My lord, so please you, these things further thought on,
To think me as well a sister as a wife,
One day shall crown th' alliance on't, so please you,
Here at my house, and at my proper cost.
ORSINO
Madam, I am most apt t' embrace your offer.
(To Viola) Your master quits you; and for your service done him
So much against the mettle of your sex,
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you called me master for so long,
Here is my hand; you shall from this time be
Your master's mistress.
OLIVIA
A sister, you are she.
Enter Malvolio and Fabian
ORSINO
Is this the madman?
OLIVIA
Ay, my lord, this same.
How now, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO
Madam, you have done me wrong;
Notorious wrong.
OLIVIA
Have I, Malvolio? No!
MALVOLIO
Lady, you have; pray you, peruse that letter.
You must not now deny it is your hand.
Write from it if you can, in hand or phrase,
Or say 'tis not your seal, nor your invention;
You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,
And tell me in the modesty of honour,
Why you have given me such clear lights of favour?
Bade me come smiling and cross-gartered to you,
To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people?
And, acting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you suffered me to be imprisoned,
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
And made the most notorious geck and gull
That e'er invention played on? Tell me why?
OLIVIA
Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
Though, I confess, much like the character.
But out of question 'tis Maria's hand.
And now I do bethink me, it was she
First told me thou wast mad; then, camest in smiling,
And in such forms which here were presupposed
Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content.
This practice hath most shrewdly passed upon thee;
But when we know the grounds and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own cause.
FABIAN
Good madam, hear me speak;
And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,
Taint the condition of this present hour,
Which I have wondered at. In hope it shall not,
Most freely I confess, myself and Toby
Set this device against Malvolio here,
Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
We had conceived against him. Maria writ
The letter at Sir Toby's great importance,
In recompense whereof, he hath married her.
How with a sportful malice it was followed
May rather pluck on laughter than revenge,
If that the injuries be justly weighed
That have on both sides passed.
OLIVIA
Alas, poor fool! How have they baffled thee!
FESTE
Why, ‘ Some are born great, some achieve greatness,
and some have greatness thrown upon them.’ I
was one, sir, in this interlude, one Sir Topas, sir – but
that's all one. ‘ By the Lord, fool, I am not mad!’ But do
you remember: ‘ Madam, why laugh you at such a
barren rascal, an you smile not, he's gagged ’? And thus
the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.
MALVOLIO
I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you!
Exit
OLIVIA
He hath been most notoriously abused.
ORSINO
Pursue him and entreat him to a peace.
He hath not told us of the Captain yet.
When that is known, and golden time convents,
A solemn combination shall be made
Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister,
We will not part from hence. Cesario, come;
For so you shall be, while you are a man.
But when in other habits you are seen –
Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen!
Exeunt all but Feste
FESTE
(sings)
When that I was and a little tiny boy,
With hey-ho, the wind and the rain;
A foolish thing was but a toy,
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came to man's estate,
With hey-ho, the wind and the rain;
'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate,
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came, alas, to wive,
With hey-ho, the wind and the rain;
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came unto my beds,
With hey-ho, the wind and the rain;
With tosspots still had drunken heads,
For the rain it raineth every day.
A great while ago the world began,
With hey-ho, the wind and the rain;
But that's all one, our play is done,
And we'll strive to please you every day.
Exit
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